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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26907415">A Dumb Idea</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks'>mattzerella_sticks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Season 15 Inspired [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Chases, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Embarassed Dean Winchester, Feelings, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Dean Winchester, Insecurity, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Episode s15e14 The Last Holiday, References to Canon, Sam Winchester is the Captain of this Ship, Shy Dean Winchester, Supportive Sam Winchester, Valentine's Day</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:49:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,447</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26907415</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They celebrated Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving, birthdays, even the Fourth of July. What about the other holidays? What about Valentine's Day?</p><p>Mrs. Butters actually had a plan for that, but she left before it could come to fruition. Sam, however, stumbles on Dean and a leftover piece from said plan. Something Dean would rather Sam not see. When he does get a peek as to what it is, well... Dean and Sam have a lot to talk about.</p><p>Coda to 15x14 "The Last Holiday"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester &amp; Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Season 15 Inspired [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1517543</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>137</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Dumb Idea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I feel like I won't be the only one writing something within the context of Valentine's Day. It's something I think we all thought of given the theme of this episode and the distinct lack of Castiel.</p><p>Hopefully you enjoy this one as you'll enjoy all the rest!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>            Sam didn’t intend this. He called Dean’s name, first. Except his brother didn’t react. Head bowed, headphones on as he studied something before him. Music loud enough Sam faintly heard it from the kitchen’s entrance. Easily obscuring his footsteps as Sam approached, curious.</p><p>            Moving closer, Sam saw a pencil in Dean’s hand. Wrinkled paper waiting underneath it. Marred with illegible words. He placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “What are you writing?”</p><p>            Dean jumped, headphones slipping off his head. Zeppelin blaring, echoing across the room until his brother slammed a fist on his mp3. “Christ, Sammy,” Dean turned, glaring. Both hands covered the folded paper, pencil forgotten as it rolled away. “Don’t do that! Could’ve had a heart attack.”</p><p>            “You have a better chance at going deaf than having a heart attack, Dean.”</p><p>            “At least then Eileen could teach me sign language,” he said, bending forward. Somehow maintaining eye contact with Sam. “And we can gossip behind your back with complicated, advanced signing that you can’t do because of your big moose hooves.”</p><p>            Snorting, Sam brushed the insult aside. He won’t be distracted that easy. “What are you doing?” he asked, again, “What are you writing?”</p><p>            Dean’s lip twitched. His gaze flit between the paper and Sam. “I’m not writing anything.” The pencil, thrown from the table’s edge, landed with a guilty clatter. “Okay, I was writing something,” Dean admit, dragging the page towards him, “It’s… a grocery list.”</p><p>            “Groceries?”</p><p>            “Yeah, those things you buy?” Dean rose with a nervous giggle, the paper pressed against his chest, “Mrs. Butters wasn’t here for <em>that</em> long Sam, you must remember food doesn’t naturally <em>poof </em>out of thin air. So I set to taking stock of what we needed and… actually, I just finished.” He inched backwards, Sam trailing after him. “Might as well go and <em>get </em>the groceries, now that I have the… the list.”</p><p>            Sam shrugged, grinning, “That makes sense.”</p><p>            “It does, doesn’t it?”</p><p>            A beat later, Sam pounced. Dean, anticipating his attack, spun on his heel. Sam’s chest colliding with his back, blanketing it. But Dean hadn’t considered his <em>next</em> move, because the kitchen island blocked any attempt at escape. Trapped between Sam and it, all he could do was play defense while Sam used every dirty trick on making his brother let go. Because Sam already ran through the scenario in his head, planning for this moment. From the second he saw Dean hide that paper.</p><p>            It wasn’t what he intended; Dean left him no choice.</p><p>            He tickles, he pinches, and he pulls. Finally, Dean surrenders his hold on the paper. Sam snatches it and bolts, his brother chasing him. “Sammy!”</p><p>            “Grocery list my <em>ass</em>!” he yells behind him, skidding around a turn in the hall. Narrowly avoiding Dean’s fist, laughing as he slams into the wall Sam avoided. “Let’s see what you were <em>really</em> writing…” His eyes scan the front of the paper, reading aloud what Dean scrawled in bright red ink. “I never really believed in angels,” he says, slowing, “until I met you.”</p><p>            Dean slams into him, both sent tumbling. They lie on their backs, panting, the paper in Sam’s hand with Dean’s creeping closer. Sam feels it go taut as Dean grabs hold, yet he won’t fight further. Perhaps afraid of ruining what’s there. Of the cheesy pick-up line titling his inner thoughts, bookended by doodled wings and a giant, colored heart stamped on the bottom.</p><p>            “Really,” Sam gasps, “you got so worked up over <em>that</em>.” His body burns with exhaustion, having overexerted himself. Although not really. Sam should be more concerned with his stamina, except there were other matters that need his attention.</p><p>            “Shut up…” Dean’s cheeks were red, from embarrassment, exercise, or a combination of both. “Shit’s personal.”</p><p>            “And grade school,” Sam says. He lurches into a seated position, Dean popping up alongside him. Neither letting go, still. “What are you doing writing a Valentine’s Day card?”</p><p>            “Why does anyone write a Valentine’s Day card, Sam?” Dean stares at his feet, thinking. The grip on his end goes slack, hand falling to his side. “Read it.”</p><p>            Sam hesitates. “Are you sure?”</p><p>            “You’ve already seen enough,” he sighs, pinching his brow. “Come on. Do it, before I change my mind.”</p><p>            Noting the twinges of irritation threaded into his voice, Sam knows he won’t have long. He flicks it open, first three letters stealing his breath. Glancing at Dean, he sees his brother curled. Physically making himself smaller, like Dean could disappear if he tried hard enough. Sam keeps his initial thoughts silent, saving it for the end.</p><p>            Which was the right choice. If the first word were a seed, then the rest of his message was the flower. Each sentence like a petal that together created a beautiful image. Of a secret love. Simmering feelings, strengthening over time. Insecurities laid bare that Sam had expected yet never confirmed until now. A simple plea – a prayer – that leaves <em>him</em> raw, despite the words having come from someone else.</p><p>            Sam closes it, wiping at his eyes. “I…” he clears his throat, “Wow. You were planning on <em>giving</em> this to Cas?”</p><p>            “Yes…” Dean pouts, snatching the card from Sam. He lets Dean take it. “Maybe, I – I don’t know.”</p><p>            “But you wrote it,” Sam says, “Did you… did you mean it? Everything?”</p><p>            “Of course I did!” He waves the card about, snarling, “If I didn’t mean it, it wouldn’t be there.”</p><p>            Nodding, Sam slides closer. Throws an arm around Dean, tugging him into a loose hug. “How long have you been sitting on this?”</p><p>            “On the feelings or the card?”</p><p>            “The card.”</p><p>            Dean relaxes, leaning on Sam. “A few days now. You were getting ready for your date with Eileen and, well… when Mrs. Butters was still here, she was going on about the next <em>holiday</em> we should celebrate. With Eileen here, maybe invite her over and do a whole Valentine’s Day dinner…” He chuckles, rubbing at his jaw. “And I was eating some of her snickerdoodles, and she looked at me. Clucked her tongue and said how it’d be perfect to set me up with a girl as good as Eileen. I… don’t know if it was because I was in such a good mood, or it was easier, explaining to a stranger, but it all came – it came rushing out. I couldn’t stop myself. Then… when I was finished… y’know what she did? She magicked up that paper and the – the pencil back in the kitchen. And said I should put everything I said down there. Invite Cas over and then give it to him.”</p><p>            Sam braves a smile for both of them. “Sounded like it would have been fun.”</p><p>            “No,” Dean says, “it wouldn’t. Because then Cas would <em>read </em>my card and… and he’d know how I really feel.”</p><p>            “That’s a problem?”</p><p>            “It’s a problem if he doesn’t feel the same!” He throws Sam off of him, scrambling to his feet. Sam stands, too. “I have all these big, awful, disgusting… intense, amazing, <em>fantastic</em> feelings for him, but what if that’s where it ends. That for him I…” Dean shudders, body shaking. “I’m just a friend. And this whole time I’ve been <em>imagining</em> more than what was there. <em>Hoping</em> that maybe, the reason we always found our way back to each other, was because we were meant to.”</p><p>            “Dean,” Sam starts, cautiously approaching him. Gentle, like he was a wild deer. Skittish, alert for any surprises. “You won’t know if you don’t try… I’m sure that, when Cas sees that, he’ll be happy. <em>More </em>than happy!”</p><p>            “You don’t know,” Dean says, lifting the card. Scowling, he holds it on either side. “This was a dumb idea anyway… I shouldn’t have ever listened to her.”</p><p>            “Dean, don’t –“</p><p>            He rips it. Rips it again. A third time, and many more after that until confetti rains from his fingers. Sam watches this happen with a pit in his stomach, all of Dean’s hard work disappearing in an instant. Resolve crumbling as fast.</p><p>            Dean sniffs, swiping his nose. “Let’s… forget this ever happened, okay Sammy?” he says, stalking down the hall, “Got more important things we should be focusing on anyway…”</p><p>            He disappears, footfalls echoing until those, too, end. Sam stays, staring at the pile of shreds.</p><p>            Sam bends, sweeping them into his hands. Makes sure they’re all there. Then he heads towards his room.</p><p>            Cas is due back soon, anyway. If Sam acts quickly, at least some of what Dean wrote can reach him. Enough for them to have the conversation that’s been looming overhead for years now. The clock is ticking, and Sam will be damned if it runs out on those two.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>What did you think? Let me know by dropping a kudos/comment below!</p><p>And if you liked this, you'll love some of the other projects I'm working on right now:</p><p>Supernatural Crack🩹tober &amp; i'd like to teach the world to sing - both you can find on my author's profile page 😉</p></blockquote></div></div>
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